


like the river spilled into the ocean

by aliaaaaaa



Series: webgottrash tumblr prompts [3]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6246703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/pseuds/aliaaaaaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He spent the last 8 months trying to shove back whatever lingering memories and feelings he had for Web and now Webster was standing next to him looking at the ocean; a solid presence that radiated warmth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like the river spilled into the ocean

**Author's Note:**

> an anon requested for - Liebgott hasn't seen Webster since the war but he gets a call at 1 am to come to the hospital because he was his emergency contact. Webster attempted suicide and lieb gets pissed at him and is forced to confront his feelings. Lieb also agrees that Web can be discharged to live with him because it is not safe for him to live alone in his current state.
> 
> This is my sloppy take on it.

Joe got the call at 1 in the morning.

He was just about to sleep; body tired and mind ready to shut down after a long day of driving his cab. He thought of letting the phone ring without picking it up because he was sure it was Luz drunk-calling him again; asking him to solve a riddle before doing an impression of a pissed Joe Liebgott.

“What do you want, Luz?” He asked into the receiver; his palm rubbing his tired eyes.

“Joe.” Sure enough it was George Luz but he didn’t sound drunk. He sounded too sober and that in itself triggered a warning bell in Joe’s head.

He was sure he misheard Luz over the crackling line. “What?”

“Web is in the hospital,” Luz repeated once again and something akin to ice crept up Joe’s spine.

“You need to come, Joe. He’s… He put you as his emergency contact but the hospital couldn’t get a hold of you so they called me instead.”

Afterwards, everything was a blur. He didn’t remember saying goodbye to Luz. He didn’t remember flying down the stairs of his apartment. He didn’t remember driving on the highway.

Everything was on automatic. His mind was now on alert; his body too high strung.

Joe felt his skin itching; something burning under it that made his skin too tight. His heart hammering too loud that it made his ears roar.

_Web tried to off himself. They had to pump his stomach. Joe, he took a lot of pills._

_Fuck_ , Joe thought.

*

Inside the hospital, the light was bright white, reflecting off the white linoleum floor. Joe took an elevator to the third floor, then walked through double doors and past a nurses’ station. Luz was sitting at the plastic chair in the waiting area. He looked rumpled and sleepy but still managed a small smile when he saw Joe.

“He’s in 307. Joe… He…”, Luz flattered a bit when Joe bored his eyes into the smaller man. “Just go easy on him,” Luz reminded him and Joe nodded briefly as if he didn’t hear the last part.

*

The last time he saw Webster was when they were on the ship being transported back to the States. The war was over; the general mood on the ship was of celebration and victory that they survived the war.

Joe spent every waking hour with the men of Easy Company, squeezing himself in between Babe and Doc Roe playing cards and listening to Luz and Perconte arguing playfully.

At night he slept in a bunk next to Web, watching him write in his thick journal. The sound of the pencil softly gliding on the worn pages lulled Joe into a sleeping spell. When he was bored with that, Joe would gently kick Web’s leg and asked Web to stop writing about him and Web would huff a laugh before stowing the journal away.

In this small space, they could pretend that they have no choice but to lie down so close to one another; sharing warmth and comfort. In this small space, they could pretend that their fingers accidentally brushed each other before one of them gently clasped their fingers together.

For tomorrow when they arrived in New York City, they had to pretend that this separation wouldn’t affect them. For tomorrow when Joe hugged Web; his hand clasped gently on Web’s nape, whispering “see ya when I see ya.” He had to pretend to push Web away when in fact all he wanted to do was to drag Web closer and to hold him tighter.

*

When Joe entered the room, Webster was in bed, and the mattress was raised so he was half-sitting. Joe took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

His hand was shaking when he saw the skin around Web’s mouth smudged with a powdery black from charcoal the doctors had used to pump his stomach.

Webster was staring ahead with no particular expression on his face; wearing a pale blue hospital gown. His brilliantly blue eyes were now the color of the stormy sea.

Joe stepped forward heavily, and set his hand against the mattress by Web’s feet.

And at last, Web looked up and something akin to surprise wonderment was written on his face when he saw Joe standing by his bed.

“Joe.” Web sounded tired but not all emotional – not embarrassed or regretful or apologetic.

And it made Joe bristled.

He was too high strung from feelings too much; anger was at the forefront followed by worry. He wasn’t surprised there was affection lurking at the back.

Joe closed his eyes and willed himself not to scream. How could Web look so detached when Joe was feeling too much? How could Web think of doing this to himself?

“How could you?” He whispered hoarsely while his fingers bunched up the sheet.

Joe glanced at Web and when their eyes met, he almost started. The way Web looked at him was so hopeless, so exhausted, that it seemed scornful.

Web opened his mouth but did not immediately speak, and Joe, simultaneously, felt the impulse to coax the words from him and the impulse to suppress them.

He took a shuddering breath. He was not sure if he was ready to know the reason to why Web did it.

“You’re coming home with me.” Joe told Web firmly, his fingers digging into Web’s legs.

And when he didn’t get any answer from Web, he dug his fingers deeper until Web yelped in pain and hit Joe’s shoulder.

“Good. I see you’re still capable of feeling things.” Joe said as he walked out of the room.

“Fuck you,” Web said tiredly.

“Likewise,” Joe saluted back.

*

They arrived at Joe’s apartment without any hitch.

Sometimes around 4 in the morning, Luz went to Web’s house to get whatever things Web needed for his stay with Joe.

(“Just bring my journal. I don’t need anything else,” Web told Luz while Joe rolled his eyes. “What you don’t need clothes? We can’t share pants, I am skinnier than you,” Joe said while he was filling the release forms.

Luz brought back what looked like a week’s worth of clothing and Web’s thick journal and several books that he gathered last minute into the duffel bag. “For you to read when you got bored arguing with Joe,” Luz had said when Web eyed the books.)

Joe toed open the door to his apartment and let Web went in first. For the first time since living there, he noticed how small it was when Web was standing in the middle of it, eyeing everything before standing in front of the window overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

In the morning sun that filtered in from the window, Joe looked at Web properly; his hair was longer now, curling at the back. His face looked gaunt and although he looked tired; his expression flickered with fondness when he saw the ocean.

“Nice place you got here,” Web turned around just as Joe came out from his room. “Anywhere is a nice place for you as long as you can see the ocean,” Joe caught Web smiling as he moved to stand in front of the window, his shoulder brushing Web’s arm.

In that moment everything felt surreal for Joe. He spent the last 8 months trying to shove back whatever lingering memories and feelings he had for Web and now Webster was standing next to him looking at the ocean; a solid presence that radiated warmth. It reminded Joe about the journey home from the war.

“You’re staying in my room.” Joe said to Web’s reflection in the window. “The sofa doesn’t look comfortable,” Web eyed Joe. “No one is sleeping on the sofa. My bed is big enough for us both.”

With that Joe trudged into the small kitchen area to make coffee and Web was left staring at Joe’s retreating figure in the window.

They have too many unsaid things, too many unspoken feelings between them but Joe felt exhausted to the bone and Webster had already lain down on his bed.

David Webster was on his bed, arranging himself to a comfortable position. He bunched up the pillow before gently rubbing his face on it and he exhaled slowly and the gestures made Joe feel giddy.

*

Web woke up when the sun was already down.

He blinked slowly, trying to remember why he couldn’t hear the ocean from his bed and then he remembered that he was in Joe’s house, in Joe’s bed.

He remembered taking too much pills last night. He remembered being panic when he couldn’t breathe. He remembered sobbing into the telephone receiver when he called the hospital. He remembered Luz’s helpless expression. Joe’s disappointed stare.

When he trudged softly to the small den area, Joe was eating his dinner in front of the television. Web plopped down next to him, aware that his thigh was pressing snuggly next to Joe’s.

“You sleep okay?” Joe asked.

He hummed softly not trusting himself to speak. Being around Joe again robbed him the ability to form his words properly. He wanted to say a lot of things but at the same time he felt like his words were not enough to convey what he felt.

He watched Joe watched the television. Joe looked good. He looked tired but still looked good. His hair was a bit shorter. His wrists were still bony but Joe looked calm like he was finally at peace with the world.

“Something on my face?” Joe asked without glancing at Web and Web felt his cheeks grew hot from being caught staring and Joe grinned before getting up to fix Web’s dinner.

Web insisted that he was capable of doing that.

(“Don’t want you to burn the food.” Joe had said. “I know how to cook,” Web pouted. “Boiling water is not the same as cooking actual food.”)

Joe kept him company while he ate; porridge that reminded him of helmet chow he had during the war.

“Don’t make that face,” Joe chided gently.

“It tasted bland,” Web chewed slowly.

“Should have thought that before you got your stomach pumped.” Joe said sharply and Web didn’t say anything after that; focusing his energy to chew on the already watery porridge.

*

When Web stepped inside the bedroom after his shower, Joe was already reclining on the bed in the dimmed room. The lights from the street down below poured inside the room.

Web draped the towel on the chair and methodically dressed in his shirt and boxer, too aware that Joe was staring at him.

He climbed into the bed and lay next to Joe. It should be awkward for them to be sharing a bed. It should be awkward for him to lie down next to Joe. But all he felt was the feeling of content for the first time in 8 months that he was back in the States.

“Joe.” Web whispered softly.

“Yeah?” Joe answered in the same manner.

Web hesitated for a bit when he felt Joe shifted so he was facing Web. “Thank you.” He glanced to look at Joe.

He didn’t elaborate of what he was thanking Joe for. But Joe seemed to understand him because he saw Joe gave him a small smile before he shut his eyes.

They fell asleep like that; Joe’s body facing Web, one arm stretched out and somewhere in the middle of the night Web would wake up to find that Joe had circle his waist with his bony arm. It was a comforting heaviness and he fell asleep again being surrounded by Joe’s presence.

*

In the next couple of days they have established a routine; Joe would wake up next to Web like it was the most natural thing to do. Joe’s arm around Web’s body, Web’s leg tangled easily with Joe’s.

Joe would go and drive his cab as early as 630 in the morning and sometimes he stopped by the apartment to check up on Web. 

Sometimes he called from the payphone asking Web if he’s okay, asking Web if he wanted Joe to bring him lunch.

(One time, Joe got home early for lunch because he didn’t want to leave Web alone for too long and when he stepped into the apartment he saw Web reading by the window overlooking the ocean. He had dragged a chair there. And what made Joe stopped taking a step forward was when Web turned to look at him; Web had shaved his scruff and he looked like the David Webster that Joe knew during the war and his eyes were so brilliantly blue.)

(Luz called too sometimes to check up on them, especially on Web. He always ended up doing all the talking; telling Webster what he had been up to and what the other guys were doing. And Luz always ended the call by telling Webster to take care of himself and of Joe. “Don’t argue too much, it’s not good for the heart,” he had said once.)

Oftentimes Web would be wandering around town and always ended up at the pier, basking in the sun and breathing in salty sea air; writing in his journal. More often than not, Joe would see his dark hair from afar while he was driving passed the pier. More often than not, Joe would park his cab and walked down the loose boards of the pier and sat next to Web. Asking Web what he had written in the journal, enjoying the easy feeling he experienced knowing that Web was next to him, safe and sound.

At night, they laid next to each other on the bed, content and at ease.

And it was weeks after Luz called Joe to tell him that Web was in the hospital. It was weeks after Joe saw Web so broken on the hospital bed. They were on the bed, only mere inches of space between them. Joe was telling Web about one of his passengers that he had encountered during the day; voice low and tired.

Web shifted his body so he could look at Joe properly. He studied Joe’s face, how his hair were damped from the shower, how his forehead creased when he told Web about how annoyed he was with some of the passenger, how red Joe’s lips were and how his eyes lighted up when he glanced to look at Web.

Web closed the gap between them and kissed Joe softly on the lips; one hand cupping Joe’s jaw gently. He felt rather than heard Joe’s breath hitched before Joe relaxed into the kiss. It was chaste; Web’s dry lips meeting with Joe’s succulent lips. When Joe tilted his head a bit to the left, Web moaned softly before he deepen the kiss and he felt Joe’s fingers digging into his arms to coax him closer.

They broke apart, breathless and lingering; Web kissed Joe’s reddened lips once more.   
“Joe.” Web breathed into Joe’s cheek and Joe run his fingers into Web’s thick hair and his other hand lingered on Web’s nape.

“Yeah?”

“I’m ready to tell you everything.”

Joe leaned up to kiss Web again; slowly, gently.

“We have all night.”

And for the first time in 8 months since Webster got back to the States; being in Joe’s arms, he felt at ease, he felt at home; and the words flowed easily from him like the river spilled into the ocean.

**Author's Note:**

> first posted on [webgottrash](http://webgottrash.tumblr.com/post/140201695472/au-prompt-liebgott-hasnt-seen-webster-since-the)


End file.
